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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Shelf -j.a:ii.Wi 
1516" 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



'\^&-^t'\-A'^-!T7.S-9'^^ -^y''" ,-7,'«SC"?^ 



THE WATER BROOK 



AND 



OTHER VERSES 



BY 

MARY BEAVAN 

// 



printeU for ^ribate distribution 



NEW YORK 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH AND CO. 




■y^ 



Copyright, 1895, 
By Anson D. F, Randolph and Company. 



John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 



This is the best of me ; for the rest I ate and drank 
and slept, loved and hated like another. My life was as 
the vapor ^ and is not; but this I saw a?id knew, — this, 
if anything of ttiine, is worth your memory. 

RUSKIN. 



What a thing friendship is, 

Wo?id without end I 

How it gives the heart and soul a stir up ; 

Gives your life's hour-glass a shake 

When the thin sand doubts 

Whether to run or stop short! 

The Flight of the Duchess. 



TO MY FRIENDS 
3[ UeHicatc tbcse ^trap EI)j>mr6 of jFancp; 

K no-wing with Robert Broivning — 

"The gladlier lives my friend 
Because I love him still." 



i^o t\)ovi0)t tobicb etcr jstirrcb a buman breast ^boultJ 
be untOtD, — Paracelsus 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Overflowings ii 

Lethe 13 

Proteus 14 

Conjecture 16 

After the Baitle 17 

April 19 

Bugle Calls 20 

To MY Dog 22 

Love's Garden 23 

The House of Love 24 

Montecito 25 

Endymion . , 26 

Love's Completeness 27 

Love's Gift 29 

The Wood Fire 30 

To Baby Mary 33 

A Farewell 35 

Song 36 

Sunset at Atlantic City in Winter ....... 37 

7 



PAGE 

eschscholtzia 39 

If Truth were Sweet 40 

Alone 41 

Love's Faithfulness 42 

A Song 43 

On a Picture called "A Suicide's Burial." — By 

C. \V. S 44 

Soul Strength 46 

A Song 47 

At Night 48 

Love's Vanity 49 

Nonsense Verses 50 

Roses and Verses 52 

A Winter's Evening ,53 

Mutability 55 

Love the Conqueror 56 

At Night 57 

October by the Sea 58 

A Farewell to Love 60 

Love's Fickleness 61 



THE WATER BROOK, 



OVERFLOWINGS. 

TN the heart of a forest olden, 
Its emerald depths among, 
Apart from the sunshine golden 
A water brook had sprung. 

Pent up, pressed down, yet spurning 
The weight of earth and stone. 

But ever still upward yearning, 
Its waters welled alone. 

At last with a mighty struggle 

The great rocks burst apart ; 
And, released from its weight of trouble, 

Out sprang that fountain's heart. 

Out o'er the green grass gushing. 

Cutting a channel deep, 
Down towards the river rushing 

O'er meadow and hill-side steep. 



Ever gayly a wild song singing 

Of freedom and joy at last, 
Its waves to the ocean bringing 

Still downward the torrent passed. 

From its banks where violets growing, 
Meet the gentian's perfect blue, 

Some drops of that fount's o'erflowing 
I bring, dear friends, to you. 



12 



A 



LETHE. 



H, to forget, forget! Lone Lethe's stream 
Floweth afar. Beneath its waters gleam 



Vain wishes and lost hopes. Amid its dark rocks 

glow 
Wild memories of bright days of long ago, 
False words and broken hearts. A tangled heap 
Of sweetness and unworthiness together sleep 
For aye beneath that river's silver wave. 
There would I hie me, in its waters lave 
This careworn, weary frame, and cast aside 
Life's heavy burden. In the rushing tide 
I 'd slip it from me, glad to bid it go, 
Fraught with its weight of misery and woe, 
Down to the river's bed. Thence would I rise, 
With freedom and forgetfulness my prize. 



13 



PROTEUS. 

My heart ! 
My heart in the morn is a bird, 

A bright lark soaring high. 
Afar is its gay song heard, 

And "Love" is its wild clear cry; 
Singing, soaring, love outpouring, 
In the bright morning 
My heart is a bird. 

My heart ! 
My heart at noontide -is a lute, 

The south wind stirs its strings. 
Though the lark's clear song be mute 

The self-same carol rings, 
Out from those soft chords straying, 
"Love, Love, Love," ever saying. 
In the day's noontide 
My heart is a lute. 
14 



My heart ! 
My heart in the night is a fay, 

She leaves my troubled breast, 
To wander through clouds away, 

Full of a vague unrest. 
And " Love " is ever her yearning cry, 
"If I find not love Idle!" 
In the sad midnight 
My heart is a fay. 



15 



CONJECTURE. 

QTARS of my lady's eyes, 

Brighter than those in the skies, 
What do those rays disclose, 
Stars of my lady's eyes? 



Rose of my lady's lip, 
Where I 'd sweet honey sip. 
What would that kiss disclose. 
Rose of my lady's lip? 

Hands of my lady dear. 
If mine own held them near. 
What would their clasp disclose. 
Hands of my lady dear? 

Heart in my lady's breast, 
Were thy deep thought confest. 
What would those thoughts disclose. 
Heart in my lady's breast? 
i6 



AFTER THE BATTLE. 

SUGGESTED BY A RUSSIAN BROXZE. 

T3ACK from the battle-field, Selim, returning, 

Why bear so restlessly now on thy rein? 
Still for that field of strife eagerly burning, 
Neighing till echo resoundeth again. 

Abdallah answers thy summons no longer, 
Captive art thou without right or redress ; 

Thee the wild Cossack now governs, the stronger 
To rule and subdue, not to soothe and caress. 

Listlessly now his sharp sword he drieth, 

Stained with the blood he has ruthlessly shed; 

Lo, thy new master, when evening's breath sigheth, 
With bridle and spur towards his tent turns thy 
head. 

17 



Only this morning, Selim, proud Selim, 
. Fondly Abdallah, with trappings so fine 
Decked thee for battle, — now gone is thy glory, 
Bowed with sad sorrow that proud head of thine. 

Abdallah! Master! Fondly he loved thee, 
Next to fair Haidee held thee most dear. 

Called thee his "lightning-flash," tried thee and 
proved thee, 
Now yon vile Cossack leadeth thee here. 

Abdallah lieth cold in death's slumber, 

With hand still outstretched as though grasping 
thy rein : 

Never, Oh, Selim, o'er sands without number, 
A centaur of old, shall ye gallop again. 

Stretch not, Oh, Selim, thy head towards the 
dawning, 
Cease that shrill neighing proclaiming thy woe; 
He whom thou callest wakes not with the 
morning, 
On the lost battle-field lieth he low. 
i8 



APRIL. 

AJOW fickle April cometh on apace, 

Eyes filled with tears, with smile upon her 
lips, 
She hovers o'er the mead with blithesome grace, 
Hope beaming bright upon her maiden face. 
And scatters flowers from daintiest finger tips. 
Joy and expectance all the brown earth fills, 
Whilst "Welcome " sing the tiny trickling rills, 
And "Welcome, sister," warble the blue birds. 
Now from their haunt beside the bounding brook 
The willows burst in "welcome." In each nook 
The pink arbutus from its sleep is stirred. 
I sing not "Welcome," — sorrow bows my head; 
Fair April's voice cannot awake my dead. 



19 



BUGLE CALLS. 

REVEILLE. 

A RISE, arise, blithe soul, 
'^ Bright glows the sun; 
Thy work 's before thee, 

See, the day 's begun. 
All nature smiles; smile thou, 

Perform life's task. 
Joy beckons onward, 

Rest will come at last 

MESS. 

The clouds hangs heavily, 

The day is long, 
Life's work drags wearily, 

Sad seems Joy's song. 
To plod' — to work — there seemeth nought beside, 
But rest may come when falls the even-tide. 

20 



TAPS, 

Out with the lights! Life's day has gone, 
Over the struggle, all the work is done. 
Peace ends the conflict, rest from toil and sins; 
Rest, through Death's night, — soon Heaven's 
day begins. 



TO MY DOG. 

A H, brown and steadfast eyes, on me ye look 
Clear as the waters of a mountain brook, 
True as the shining of the stars above, 
Ye speak sweet stories of a heart's deep love; 
Reflecting, as the mirror of a lake, 
The love I render and the love I take. 
Dear, tender, steadfast eyes ! 



22 



LOVE'S GARDEN. 

T OVE made himself a garden by the sea, 

Where blue waves ebbed and flowed melo- 
diously, 
Where tiny rills ran trickling down the strand, 
And brooding summer hovered o'er the land. 
Singing of pleasure near akin to pain, 
The fair birds loved, and sang, and loved again. 
The air o'erflowed with murmurs of sweet sound ; 
Tall rose trees with pink petals strewed the 

ground. 
Love cast him down upon a marble seat. 
Before him danced bright Joy with jocund feet, 
And Hope played on the pipes her music clear, 
While Mirth sang rapturously of things most 

dear; 
But dear Delight drew near, and, closely prest 
By clasping arms, sank on Love's pulsing breast. 

23 



THE HOUSE OF LOVE. 

\ WAY, away ! Thou comest here too late. 

Death, the last guest, has gone, — closed 
is the gate. 
The sky rains tears, and not a sound is heard 
Save booming of the waves and sob of bird. 
With crown of asphodel about his head. 
Shrouded, low on his bier. Love lieth dead. 
Slain, at his feet are his handmaidens dear, 
Silenced forever by the same dread fear. 
Fair, jocund Joy, stilled are thy dancing feet. 
And hushed thy music, Hope, so clear, so sweet; 
Whilst Mirth and dear Delight sleep hand in 

hand, — 
That last dread sleep that none may understand. 
Closed is the House of Love, and at its gate 
Sad Sorrow sits, and mourns disconsolate. 



24 



MONTECITO. 

TTERE under shadows of the live oak bough 

That shields from warmth of the December 
sun, 
I rest, midst blooming roses sweet and rare. 
And hear the echo of the sportsman's gun. 

The Eucalyptus stirs its drooping leaves, 
And pungent odors scent the ambient air, 

On curving mountain sides long shadows lie, 
Beauty and peace are round me everywhere. 

Low at my feet the broad Pacific stirs. 

Its banded kelp, gray-silvered 'neath the sun, 

Whilst Anna Kappa's^ velvet hills afar 

Wait, crowned with fire, till the day is done. 

So calm and peaceful, sure at last I find 

That Eden where my bruised heart longs to be; 

Alas, not so, beloved of my soul, 

All Edens become deserts without thee! 

1 Anna Kappa is an island opposite Santa Barbara. 
25 



ENDYMION. 

T3EL0VED, how I long to be to thee 

As Cynthia to Endymion was of old; 
Who, bending down from the skies' azure sea, 
Came to her love, his dear head to enfold 
With tender clasping arms, and with a kiss 
Woke sense and soul to transports of sweet bliss. 
Sad mortal I, who nothing have to give 
Save love and life, content for thy dear sake 
Alone for aye with thoughts of thee to live; 
Alone to dream sweet dreams, but to awake 
Strong in love's power to suffer and endure. 
Endymion! Forget not in the years benign. 
When fame shall come and happier hours be 

thine, 
Sad Cynthia, whose love shone strong and pure. 



26 



LOVE'S COMPLETENESS. 

A H my love and my dearest love, 
How can I live without you? 
Even in dreams I see in your face 

The light that hovered about you, 
When you looked on me with your true eyes dear, 

And whispered such words of sweetness 
That my soul was filled, as you held me near. 
With the sense of love's completeness. 

Alone am I, but not lonely, dear, 

You have given so much to remember, — 
These thronging thoughts of the tenderest love 

That e'er brightened a life's December 
And Spring has returned to dwell with me, 

For I 've learnt beyond all proving 
That the truest joy of being loved 

Is the deeper bliss of loving! 



So go bravely forth to thy work, dear heart, 

My love shall still surround you. 
And I '11 pray to God that His tender care 

And blessing may be around you. 
And if fate might chance that never again 

Should our hearts feel the joy of meeting, 
Still, I know when you step on the further shore 

I shall give you your first love greeting. 



28 



LOVE'S GIFT. 

n^O me the earth seemed sad and drear, 

And dark life's skies did lower, 
When some one cast, low at my feet, 
A sweet mysterious flower. 

White all its petals are, and pure, 

Scarlet its heart of flame, 
Whilst some sure impulse of my soul 

Whispers the strange flower's name. 

Its subtle influence fills my life. 
Fair sunbeams guide my way, 

And Hope and Peace my comrades are. 
Love's flower is mine alway. 



29 



THE WOOD FIRE. 

" Is it not pleasing to remember," said my friend, " that 
this is the summer sunlight and heat, cherished in the wood- 
fibres many years, to burn for us this winter's evening?" 

T3Y the wood fire's ruddy light, 

My heart and I 
Lonely watched the fire sparks bright 

From the embers fly. 
"Think, dear heart," I softly cried, 
" For thee the lofty tree has died, 

For thee it grew. 
And garnering the sunshine and the dew, 

Long years ago, 

Now brings thee for an offering sweet. 

The summer's sun and heat 

Here in the winter's frost and snow. 

Thinkst thou that noble tree 

Its mission knew, 
30 



And as in forest wild and free 

It upward grew, 
Felt that in years to come, 
Far from its wild-wood home, 
'T would render up again 
The happy sunshine, summer light and heat, 
And all that made its forest life complete, 

Long years ago, 
To bring dear thoughts of bright June days 
Out from its ember's rays, 
Here in the winter's chill and snow ? 
Ah, no. In that far forest old 

The tree, content. 
Lived through each summer's heat, each winter's 

cold, 
Filling with joy the heart of nature old. 

Who her sweet influence lent 
To urge its growth in its allotted space, 
Teaching the tree to wave with grace 

Its leaflets green ; 

Or bow in majesty its branches clad 

In winter's sheen. 
31 



But still it hoarded in its heart, 

Long years ago, 
The sunshine garnered in the summers gone. 
Nor dreamt its lot, to comfort hearts forlorn. 

Here in chill winter's snow. 
Then take this lesson home to thee. 

Sad heart, and rest. 
Living thy life that all may see 

Love fills thy breast; 
Cherish thou still its fervent glow 
To burn for friends in winter's snow, 
Content to fill a little space. 
Humbly, in thine allotted place. 

To comfort, soothe, caress 

Some weary sorrowing breast. 
So, as the years pass by. 
Thou 'It be remembered with a loving sigh; 

And dear friends whisper, though 

'T was long ago, 
* She brought us summer in our winter's snow ! ' 



32 



TO BABY MARY. 

IT HNSOME Mary, blithesome fairy, 

Blossom of the May, 
Eyes of brown doe, poised on tiptoe, 

Wilt thou say me " Nay " ? 
You cannot miss surely one kiss, 

And — I love thee so ! 
Red lips pouting, laughter shouting, 

Still thou criest "No." 
Dimpling, smiling, imp beguiling, 
. Grant me one caress ! 
Nearer stealing, — Ah, what feeling 

In that gentle " Yes " ! 

Ah sweet baby, some day, maybe, 

Lover pleading so. 
Not consenting, half relenting, 

Wilt thou tell him "No"? 
33 



Baby darling, bright-eyed starling, 

Loveliest rosebud mine. 
Home love is the truest, sweetest, 
Of all love it is completest. 
Guard it, whilst 't is thine. 



34 



A FAREWELL. 

Beloved, 
Bear with me a little space; 
Life's cup grows turbid, and death comes apace, 
I know not which I dread most, 

No, not I ! 

Beloved, 
Once thou lovedst me passing well ; 
Losing that love has made of life a hell, 
Death knoweth not a deeper. 

So say I ! 

Beloved, 
Grant to me this simple boon; 
Love flies at morn, — forget it, ere 't is noon, 
Remembrance is so bitter, 

So think I ! 
List to the clanging of Love's passing bell, 
And echo answers back, " Farewell, farewell ! " 

35 



SONG. 

T OVE, is it a curse or a boon? 
Do we know ? Can we tell ? 
O'erflowing with joy, brimming over with sorrow 
Joy for the nonce, pain for the morrow. 
Comes it at morn ? It goeth at noon : 
Loving is well; to love not is better; 
At morning a garland, at sunset a fetter. 

Gay love is a pleasure 

When lovers are meeting, 
Then dance we a measure. 

Bright smiles each sweeting. 
Swift flies all joy, fadeth all laughter, 
Pain follows fast, sorrow comes after; 
Meeting is pleasure, bitter is parting; 
Sighs rend our breast, salt tears are starting. 

Love, is it a curse or a boon ? 
Who can tell.^ 

Joy flieth fast, sorrow comes soon, — 

Is it well ? 
36 



SUNSET AT ATLANTIC CITY IN 
WINTER. 

THE REAL AND THE SEEMING. 

TTIGH on the shore the wild winds of winter 

Dance o'er the sands in an eddying whirl; 
Hither and thither like flashings of jewels 

In glittering spray the white watercaps curl. 
Which is the ocean.? Which is the land.? 

Where are the clouds and which is the sea.? 
Is this the earth where I seem to stand, 

Or the haven of rest where I fain would be? 
Curious clouds through the skyland flying, 

Banners of scarlet float wide and fly free. 
Islands of purple gleam in gold sun rays, — 

Do the waves meet the sky.? Or the sky kiss 
the sea? 
White and gray sea-gulls call with wild clamor, 

White-winged ships sail far out to the sea; 
37 



What is the real and what is but seeming, 

Heart, sad heart, canst thou tell unto me? 
All of thy life is a vain endeavor, 

Weary and restless, storm-tossed as the sea, 
Joy passes by thee like clouds at sun-setting. 

Only reflecting its brightness in thee. 
Gray falls life's evening, — cease from thy 
dreaming. 

Faint not and fail not, gather to thee 
All sweet peace and calmness, while the world 
wonders 

Which is the heaven and which is the sea. 



38 



ESCHSCHOLTZIA. 

THE YELLOW POPPY OF CALIFORNIA. 

" Wherever men are noble they love bright color ; and 
wherever they can live healthily, bright color is given them 
in sky, sea, flowers, and living creatures." — Rusklv, " On 
Poppies." 

/^^ AY flowers that greet me with such cheery 
looks, 

Embodied sunshine of this western land, 
Ye teach fair lessons that are not in books, 

And scatter round ye with a lavish hand 
The brightness and the sunlight of the skies. 

Sad heart, retain this memory of the flower, 
And give out sunshine still from day to day. 

Let thy high aspirations upward tower, 

To gather light for friends upon life's way, 

So that from earth towards heaven our thoughts 

shall rise ! 

39 



IF TRUTH WERE SWEET. 

T IKE roses bright, if truth were sweet, 
How many true words could we say, 
From dawn until the close of day, 
If truth were sweet. 

But truth is oft-times hard and cold, 

The rose's sweet life dies away. 

And nought is left but earth's gray mould 

Man's vows like roses die alway. 
Life's pleasures never are complete, 
Yet joy could come like dawn of day 
If truth were sweet. 



40 



ALONE. 

"\ /TY feet are laved by the flowing tide 
As alone I sit by the sad sea-side, 
Whilst the waves grow gray as the sun sinks 

down, 
And gold gilds the roof of the old sea town. 
And I — am alone. 

The rose-leaf flush from the clouds has fled, 
Gray gulls flit fast, and overhead 
One pale star shineth alone in the sky, 
One lone ship sails for the harbor nigh, 
And I — am alone. 

Alone, to long for my dear ones dead, 

Alone, to dream of the fair years fled, 

Of the love that is not, that never can be. 

And my heart moans low with the moaning sea. 

For I — am alone. 
4r 



LOVE'S FAITHFULNESS 

TAEAR one, when I am dead and thou art 
pressing 
Earth's cool green sods over still breast and 
brow, 
Although I silent seem to all caressing 
Believe me that I love thee then as now. 

For what is death? 'T is but a swift transition, 
And souls flit fast to fairer worlds unknown; 

But still I feel, as though told in a vision. 

Sometime and somewhere thou shalt claim 
thine own. 

Believe and trust. Though for long weary ages 

Apart we wander, far beyond love's ken, 

Thou yet shalt read upon my soul's white pages, 

" Dearest, I love thee now as I did then ! " 
42 



A SONG. 

Farewell ! 
For no longer to us are belonging 

Love's joy or love's pain, 
So before bitter scorning 

Follows fast in love's train — 
Farewell ! 

Farewell. 
Mouth to mouth let us press 

For a moment, — no longer; 
One last sweet caress 

As our sorrow grows stronger, 
Now, farewell ! 



43 



ON A PICTURE CALLED "A SUICIDE'S 
BURIAL."— By C W. S. 

TJASTENING over the steep hillside 

With a shovel and pick and a curse beside 
Come the dark-robed monks, while overhead 
Flares the torch to light them bury their dead. 
Redly it glimmers, but not so red 
As the life blood his own hand has shed. 
Mark how they hurry him over the hill, 
Hating and loathing, cursing him still. 
Whose crime the greater, canst thou tell.^ 
Theirs, who have made his life a hell, 
Or his, who plunged in aching breast 
The helpful dagger, and so found rest ? 
Freed from "the fever of living " at last. 
Hating and loving and longing all past, 
Safe forever from law's stern power. 
Now in the silent twilight hour, 

44 



Secure from man and from Fortune's frown, 

'Neath the young moon's light, lay him down. 

Out from the dungeon's bolts and bars 

Into the tender light of the stars. 

As the low moon breaks through clouds o'erhead 

Weep for the living and not for the dead. 

On our ancient mother's quiet breast, 

Leave him, at rest. 



45 



SOUL STRENGTH. 

SUGGESTED BY THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS AMIDST THE 
SPRAY OF NIAGARA. 

VT'E tiny birds ! Amidst the encircling spray 

How keen your sense of power, your strength 
of wing ! 
High above waves of green and mists of gray 
Ever ye mount the clouds and blithely sing, 
Above the rush and thunder of Niagara's might. 
So have I seen from out the whirl of life 
Some brave soul rise and upward cleave its way 
Above the tumult of the world's wild strife. 
With longings deep for Heaven's serenest day, 
Secure of self, and conscious of the right. 



46 



A SONG. 

Smile, 
My fond lover and bless me, 
With thy dark eyes caress me, 
Now that love claims its own 
From my soul sorrow has flown, 

Smile. 

Laugh, 
My beloved, and kiss me, 
Joy and its pleasures did miss me, 
Now love hath come to its own 
And laughter and love are one, 

Laugh. 

Sigh, 
My soul's lover and love me; 
Transient as clouds above me 
Is love, and the tears will start ; 
Gather me close io thy heart, 



Sigh. 



47 



AT NIGHT. 

\ BROODING stillness on the midnight air, 
A brighter glimmer in the stars o'erhead, 
And in my heart a consciousness that tells 
A life hath sped. 

A sudden waving of the bending boughs, 
A quickened rustle of the leaves on high, 
And deep within my breast my heart has felt 
A soul pass by. 



48 



LOVE'S VANITY. 

T WOULD I were a fairy elf, 
And you had bid me come 
To dwell within your inmost heart, 

And hold it for my own. 
An altar I would raise to thee 

And there sweet incense burn, 
Fair birds should carol in thy praise 

And thy dear name should learn. 
Dear heart! I 'd mirror-line thy walls, 

So, though a foolish elf, 
Where'er I'd turn my eager gaze, 

I still should fmd, — myself! 



49 



NONSENSE VERSES. 

TO BERTHA AND GEORGE. 
(Sung to the air of " Little Brown Jug.") 

/^NE two three, four and five 

Little honey-bees in a beehive, 
Some flew in and some flew out, 
What in the world were they all about ? 

Gathering honey all the day, 

Busy, busy bees, no time for play; 

One flew up to find the sky 

And never came back, he flew so high! 

Four little honey-bees left in the hive 
Wept, lest their brother was not alive. 
So another one started to hunt the moon 
And bring the truant back quite soon. 

50 



One two three, four and five, 
Only three honey-bees left in the hive ; 
One got married to a bumble-bee 
And made his home in an old oak-tree. 

Oh, dear me, now what will they do ? 
Once there were five and now there are two ! 
And one fell down in a lily's cup, 
Lost his way and never came up. 

One two three, four and five, 

One sad honey-bee left in the hive; 

In a pool of honey he was drowned alone, 

And the hive was taken by a lazy drone. 



SI 



ROSES AND VERSES. 

TO W. W. 

T^ OSES and verses ! They both came together, 
Sparkling and bright as the sunshiny 
weather; 
Rich was their perfume, subtle their meaning, 
Which was the real and which but the seeming? 

Life is a jest, your bright verses show it; 
Roses soon fade, of course we all know it; 
Truth is a rock, as wisdom discloses; 
Which die most quickly, men's vows or their 
roses? 



52, 



A WINTER'S EVENING. 

'T^HANKS, dear friends, for lovely flowers, 

Bringing dreams of balmier hours, 
Telling of the summer time, 
Breathing fragrance rich and fine ; 
Sure they come from sunnier lands 
Bearing in their roseate hands 
Messages of love from you, 
Friends and sisters, wise and true. 
Charming roses here are seen, 
Roses of all flowers the queen; 
Creamy Sofrano so fair, 
Katherine Mermet, grand and rare, 
Dainty, blushing Bon Silene, 
Smilax, with its leaves of green; 
Sweet Narcissus scents the room 
With its subtle sweet perfume; 
And with eyes half closed I dream 
53 



That " things are not what they seem." 
Now in the dim fire-Hghted room 
Palm-trees wave, magnolias bloom, 
Fire-flies gleam, the bird's sweet song 
Lures me on my path along; 
Round me plays the southern breeze, 
Fair fruits fall from fair tall trees. 
In my low chair slowly turning, 
Lo ! I find the wood-fire burning. 
Winter's here, but your sweet flowers 
Brought me dreams of summer bowers, 
Could I dull or cheerless be 
With such fair gifts to comfort me? 



54 



MUTABILITY. 

13 OSES of red and white, 

Fairest in summer's land, 
Plucked by a generous hand, 
Sent by a witty wight, 
Roses of red and white. 

Roses that bloom, 

Bright in their sweetness rare. 

Filling the summer air 

With faint perfume, 

Roses that bloom. 

Roses that fade, 
Short-lived as vows of men ; 
Swift flies their sweetness. Then 
Die they in autumn's shade, 
Roses that fade. 



55 



LOVE THE CONQUEROR. 

/~\H, love is sweet, although it lives not long; 
And bitter, love, its bitterness is strong ! 
Ah bitter-sweet ! I love yet loathe the taste, 
Yet drain the cup, no drop must run to waste. 

Passion of love, tender and strong thy mien, 
I wrestle 'gainst thee ; from thy arms I lean, 
Yet strive in vain. As weaker grows my hold 
A willing captive do those arms enfold. 

Love, mighty Conqueror! My heart is thine, 
A blood-red jewel taken from its shrine, 
Faulty and marred in value, — yet thine own, 
Place it amidst the spoils, around thy throne. 



56 



AT NIGHT. 

A RESTLESS stir within the crowded nest, 
A low uneasy cry ; 
The mother folds her pinions closer still, 
Quiet her nestlings lie. 

A rush, a whirr of sweeping wings, 

The owl's triumphant cry; 
Harried by talons fierce a mother dies ; 

The murderer wings by. 



57 



OCTOBER BY THE SEA. 

1\ /TONTH of remembrance, thine hour has 
come, 

The full fruition of the summer fled; 
The crisp grass rustles underneath my feet, 

Ripe apples fall from gnarled boughs overhead. 

A slumbrous calm hangs brooding o'er the shore, 
The scarlet alder shines, rose berries glow. 

The bay-berry's low bush like wine is red. 
And over all the westering moon hangs low. 

Out from the woods I pass, across the downs, 

Following the way that leads me to the shore, 
Toward rude rocks, seamed and scarred with 
winter's frost, 
Whose feet the sea pours sad caresses o'er. 
58 



Low calls the plover, and the quail's quick cry 
Sounds through the marshes and the wood-paths 
lone, 
Whilst now, remindful of their other years. 

Slow trail the wild-geese towards the southern 
zone. 

The golden-rod's gay glory turns to brown, 
Faded the asters of September days. 

And over sand-dune, marshes, and the sea 
October spreads her veil of purple haze. 

Prone on the rocks I rest, and watch the ships 
Freighted no more with hope or peace for me; 

And muse o'er dead years gone, and dread the 
fate 
That comes, relentless as thy waves, O Sea ! 



59 



A FAREWELL TO LOVE. 

\ ND now for aye I breathe a last farewell ; 

Far goest thou from me, torch of mystic 

fire, 

While darkness comes to cover what is left, 

Gray ash and cinders, — nought of bright desire 

Left, save remembrance. Of all hope bereft 

Aside I wait, burdened with longings vain 

That some bright gleams of glory yet were mine. 

Distant and farther still I watch thee shine. 

Not, not for me the pleasure steeped in pain 

Thou givest thy wild worshippers. Ne'er, ne'er 

again 

Shall these sad eyes behold thee. So, a dying 

star 

Still faintly glimmers, till all rays grow dim; 

Its sun burns out, death comes, and from afar 

Love trembles into space 'neath the horizon's 

rimo 

60 



LOVE'S FICKLENESS. 

I^T 7HEN Love comes into the heart, fair lass, 

He takes up all the room. 
And sorrow and doubt are both cast out, 

And banished are grief and gloom. 
The sun shines bright, and around our feet 
Fair flowers exhale their fragrance sweet. 

When Love comes into the heart. 

When Love goeth out from the heart, alas, 

He leaveth a dreary space. 
Where entereth pain, for never again 

Cometh Love to the self-same place. 
For Cupid is ever a restless boy. 
And hard to please, tho' arch and coy. 

So, Love goeth out from the heart. 



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